Stoked
by orea domina
Summary: With nothing else to occupy his time, a hormone -if not exactly love- stricken, ohsoserious Zuko attempts to maybe woo a perplexed and distracted Katara. Rated T for to be safe. Slightly AU, Camping Gaang, Zuko and Iroh. Written before Season 3.
1. Mr Seriouspants Meets Hormones

I own nothing, get nothing.

Author's Note: I'm not an exclusive Zutarian, but if you're gonna do it, go all the way, right? Not that they do.

Also Zuko + Hormones equals ZOMGFUNNEEZ. Although it's not quite hilarious yet. Maybe soon, once the wooing starts. This is more Zuko Takes Everything So Seriously!Ohdear.

It's also AU, supposing that maybe that Zuko somehow has an attack of teh guilt when he visits Iroh in the prison he is surely stuck in right now at this very moment, and breaks him out. Also maybe after he realizes that The Greatest Love of All is Inside of Him and he really doesn't need daddy to tell him he's worthy. Then they join the Gaang. Wishful thinking and pretty darned lazy on my part, I know. And, d'oh! I don't know where the Earth King is. He's probably gone to visit distant relatives. Poor relatives. Poor Bosco.

IlIlIlIlIlIlIlI

It started slowly, a few twinges here and there, met at first with furious resistance. But those days there was simply nothing he could do about it. He wanted her. She woke with a look on her face that broke him every day, because what he saw was not for him. But he wanted it anyway. He wanted to see those eyes looking at him in ways that his head maddeningly told him were both impossible and the way things should be. His self control was hanging by a thread, his concentration shot. Every damned thing he did was done in distraction.

He watched her, and in equal parts he hoped and dreaded that she felt his eyes on her, because it was the only way that he had to tell her. He could never speak those words. His pride would not let him, and part of him still said that she was beneath him. And dear flaming Agni, did he want her beneath him. He woke at night in a cold sweat, parts of his anatomy painfully swollen and demanding. He would not give them satisfaction.

So, he'd taken to sleeping on his side and waking early. To meditate with the rising sun, he said. And he did meditate. Sometimes he was able to banish her from his fevered brain with fire and breath, letting his anger and isolation burn away his desire. Sometimes he succumbed to the images of her fastening long limbs around him, kissing him with her plump pink mouth, her long dark hair wavy and unbound, her tan skin against his pale, doing... things to him. Things he did not want to admit he wanted. Those days were harder to forgive himself for.

The brother, he knew. He suspected, at the very least. He sulked too much, frowned in his direction too often. And the Avatar, who still had trouble controlling his fire, despite Iroh's gentle and expert instruction, he wanted her too. The Avatar also had the damnable (fortunate) position of having her heart. She smiled fondly and rubbed his head, healed his (frequent) burns and soothed his childish hurts in ways that were distantly and painfully familiar. How he knew them, he wouldn't say. Not even in words formed in secret, in his head. They were gone, burned up before they had a chance to express their need.

His Uncle knew as well. Zuko didn't notice that he knew, of course. But why else the gentle squeezes on the shoulder, the careful distractions employed? Iroh taught Sokka to play Pai Sho, and delighted in Aang's stories of the monks of the Air Temples; of King Bumi and firebending friends long gone. And together Iroh, Sokka and Aang were expert at crafting impromptu songs that sent Toph into either fits of giggles or rage. He himself found nothing funny about being the subject of one of Sokka's "haikus", if one was inclined to compare them to anything resembling poetry.


	2. Wood and Tea

Don't own, don't profit.

A/N: I have a feeling this is going to be longer than I intended. Let me know if that makes you want to throw me out a window.

IlIlIlIlIlIlIlIlIlI

She felt his eyes on her everywhere. She didn't know if it was loathing or guilt or something else that made his eyes spark at her like that, and she didn't have to look, didn't have to meet them to know that they were always there. He offered no clues, but then she really couldn't afford to think about it. There were things to do. Important things. Like firewood, at the moment. And Zuko was not helpful. That wasn't exactly fair, she thought. He was fantastic, if you needed a fire started (which took all of three seconds max, from the asking to completion). It was the things that lead up to and followed the fire starting that he was not so good at. He was much better at sulking, staring, glowering, and stomping around camp with his fists clenched.

He was currently practicing the latter. It was after dark, and he always grew restless after dark as the rest of them settled into a comfortable, sociable rhythm. He was pacing, wearing a familiar groove into the ground. Iroh and Toph were comparing the high society habits of Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom elite, drinking tea and giggling like little girls. At least Toph actually _was_ a little girl, Katara grinned to herself. Aang was already sleeping, curled up into Appa's soft fur, with Momo at his feet. Sokka had pitched his tent and was at that very moment struggling with the the tarp and cursing quite audibly under his breath at his sister; who was apparently to blame for everything from tarps and weather to the price of tea in Ba Sing Se.

Zuko stopped suddenly, having reached some sort of conclusion, gave them all a cursory glance and announced that he needed a walk. He. _Needed._ A. Walk.

"Be careful, nephew! I heard some platypus bears earlier down by the river!" Iroh called after him, then turned to whisper something to Toph, who burst out laughing.

"Exactly what kind of tea are you drinking?" Katara shot off in their direction, pretending to scold, glad to have the weight of Zuko's eyes off of her.

"Only the best, young waterbender! Only the best." Iroh chuckled. "You should go ask Zuko if he wants to gather some _wood_ before he gets too far away." He said, strangling back a giggle. At this, Toph spat into her tea and flung herself backwards into the soft earth behind her. Obviously they had an inside joke that she was not privy to, but her mood was too light with the full moon to let it bother her.

"I don't know what is so funny, you two, but you are just asking to be separated. Honestly, you're acting like ten year olds!"

"I'm _twelve_, Katara!" Toph guffawed into the night sky.

"I give up!" She rolled her eyes in mock disdain, aware that only Iroh would get to enjoy that part of her show. "I'm going to gather some _wood_ for the morning fire, and then I'm going to bed. Don't forget to rinse out your tea cups, children."

"We won't, mom!" They chimed in unison and collapsed in a fit of laughter. Peas in a pod, she mused as she shook her head and tromped off into the forest. She wondered if maybe she really should check the tea next time. Although she doubted sincerely that Iroh would be so irresponsible as to give a twelve year old any kind of spirits.

"Some of us are trying to _sleep_, you know!" She heard Sokka pipe in as she cleared earshot, and laughed softly under her breath.

It didn't take long to gather the firewood, and she decided she had enough time to take advantage of the moon and get in a little waterbending, just a little, just to clear her head. She shrugged off her outer shift and leggings and waded into the river until it hit her just below her knees. She relished in the sensation of the cool water sliding past her legs, the resistance, the gentle push of the flow. She picked up a stream and divided it into half a dozen balls, then more, tossing them around gently, weaving them in and out in an elliptical pattern.

She was focused, but her combat honed senses kicked in as she made out the sound of faint footsteps as they approach. She felt the familiar sensation of eyes focused on only her. There was only one person it could be.

IlIlIlIlIl

Zuko's head was nowhere near where it should have been. He had needed to leave camp, _had to_, after an hour of listening to his Uncle and Toph carry on. It was almost worse than music nights on the ship! Add to that the maddening tightness in his chest at _her_ presence, and he couldn't stand it. He was too restless. His head was full of thoughts that movement alone couldn't exorcize. He announced his intentions, dismissed Iroh's advice, and then started off. He wandered for awhile at first, then threaded his way through the woods. The moonlight provided more than enough light to see, although he could have found his way to his meditation spot in pitch black. Agni knew he spent enough time there.

He cursed himself silently and strongly as he saw the break in the trees, the water ahead, and her.

There she was, using the full moon to revel fully in her powers. Gracefully, lithely, masterfully, she wound a coil of water from the larger body, forming a large glistening ball that she then separated once, then twice, continuing to double the number of balls until there were too many to count. She began tossing them about rythmically. Juggling, he huffed. But it was spectacular; her control, the look on her face, her face itself. He devoured the sight of her, her hair coming loose from its braid, her legs wide apart in the water, arms winding, every muscle in her body rippling smoothly just beneath her skin like currents. He was breathless, his need hard and aching, constricting his chest, and... his clothing. But he was unable (unwilling?) to tear himself away. An urgent stream of reasoning as to why he should turn and get the hell out of there ran a hasty loop in his head (honor, prudence, respect, his own damned dignity). So far the entire scene had lasted mere seconds. He could still escape. Unluckily for him though, she abruptly stopped, froze the balls of water in midair and dropped them into the river, letting the few dozen little balls of white bobble happily down the river.

"Enjoying the show, Zuko?"

He found himself suddenly frozen to the spot, her voice (mocking, exasperated) just as effective as her bending.


	3. Rock, Fire, Water, Shoot

The usual disclaiming and I suck at teh writing, but please love my story anyway.

IlIlIlIlIlIlIlI

"I, uh... I..." his voice trailed off into nothing.

"It's alright." She said, obviously somewhat annoyed but otherwise _not maiming him_. Which instantly deflated his defenses (and everything else).

IlIlIlIlIlIlIlI

She wasn't sure how she felt about him secretly watching her bend. But she was happy and energized from her session, and feeling charitable.

"What are you doing here, anyway? Iroh did warn you about the platypus bears." When what she really meant was how long (although she had a pretty good idea it hadn't been long from his footsteps) and more importantly _why_ were you watching me? Why hadn't she just said that? She'd never backed down from a confrontation (especially with him) before. Maybe it was because he just seemed so... different since he and Iroh had joined up with them (after much fist shaking and yelling and indignation on his part). He was still angry, of course. But also something else. Unfocused. Jumpy. Even more economical with his words than usual. She turned to face him, her features soft but wary. She leaned her head back and to shake some of the water from her hair. (He considered running. Far away, and as fast as possible.)

"I was... I was going to meditate. My spot is just," he motioned weakly with one hand, "up there."

"Oh." She chirped. She decided that she was in just the right mood for a challenge. "Can I see it?"

His jaw locked, and his lips compressed into a thin line on his face. A very straight line. His eyes were deliberately not on her. Great, she thought. She'd crossed a Zuko Communication Boundary and he was shutting down. Again.

"You're all uh, wet." He finally said.

"Oh that's okay, I can just... Oh." She trailed off as she looked down and was suddenly aware that the combination of cool night breeze, water, and parts of her anatomy had conspired against her. She quickly bent the water from her underclothes and grabbed her tunic, slipped it over her head as fast as possible, the red in her cheeks burning. "I guess I..."

But before she could finish her sentence, he motioned to her and started to scramble up the rocky shelf by the river bank. Grateful that he had chosen to move on so quickly, and surprised by his decision to suddenly share something personal with her (as confused by that as she was), she scrambled after him. She was also glad that he had turned his back to her, as she was hopping around in a most undignified manner on the beach, struggling to put on her shoes and get up the just sharp enough to not go barefoot rocks before he disappeared from view. She left her leggings behind.

When she finally did reach the top of the small cliff overlooking the river, she found him swinging his arms restlessly and shuffling his feet.

"This is it." He said.

"I can see that, Zuko." She giggled, and noted the small twitch in his lips when she said his name, and a look in his eyes that reminded her of a frightened squirrelmonkey. She decided not to toy with him any further. Part of her still couldn't believe that she spoke to him at all, after everything. But, things were as they were, and the fragile truce they had had at the beginning of their alliance (just a few short weeks before) had dissolved into something else. She wasn't sure what. An uncomfortable silence, an electricity, an awareness. Part of her was still seething with bitter questions and anger. With fear that he will betray them. Part of her was just curious as to what made this prince with the terrible scar and the terrible temper tick. She hadn't offered to heal it again, and they hadn't talked about what happened beneath Ba Sing Se, or after. She was afraid if they did, everything would shatter. And she was barely able to get him to start fires those days. She didn't need him completely useless.

"It's beautiful." She finally said and turned to look at him. She was a bit stunned to notice that his eyes were quite interesting to look at when he wasn't trying to kill her. Mostly a dark honey amber, they were also flecked with bright molten spots and ringed with a darker umber that was almost but not quite red. She suddenly realized that she was staring. The whole meeting each others eyes thing was new, as she found hers flitting from his to her feet, to the tree line, his from the rocks to his feet. Finally they both settled on the tree line.

"When the sun rises, I can feel it first from here." he said, motioning again vaguely at the horizon.

"It must be amazing. But, why did you choose a spot so close to the water?" She wondered out loud, before she could stop herself. "I mean, I would have thought since you are a firebender that you wouldn't... like it."

"Uncle says that studying the other elements and paying attention to balances in nature will help me be a better firebender."

"Your uncle is very wise." She was surprised by just how wise Iroh was, actually. He had been a very effective teacher for Aang. Patient, kind and able to reassure him while simultaneously correcting him. The Avatar was a (very) reluctant pupil, feeling residual guilt and fear from his first firebending attempt. And he hadn't fully recovered from Azula's attack (and Zuko's, for that matter) as well as his fight for his Avatar Spirit in the spirit realm. Aang's truce with Zuko was much, much tenser and laced with bitter mistrust. Despite Katara's constant vigilance and supervision of his training, Aang was still weak and dubious. But, Iroh's sense of humor was gradually wearing away at Aang's defenses, and Katara's as well. They all genuinely seemed to like one another those days.

"He is." he sighed, with more than a little darkness tingeing his voice.

"Zuko," She began hesitantly (there was that twitch again) "can I ask you a question?"

He didn't answer, so she took that as a yes. He was already on her left, but he turned his face further away from her gaze, completely obstructing her view of his scar.

"How old are you?"


	4. Words Mean Things, Unfortunately

Brian and Mike get the credit, the control and the money. Not me. Got it.

This chapter has undergone slight reconstructive surgery. Frankenwhat? Hope it's okay.

IlIlIlIlIlIlIlI

It was not the question he had been expecting, obviously. He turned his head back to meet her eyes, his right eye wide, eyebrow arched in surprise.

"I am seventeen. Why?"

"It's just, do you ever think about how young we all are? I mean besides Iroh, we're all basically just kids. Trying to save the world." From your family, was the unspoken conclusion. He frowned. She paused for a moment, a small smile cracking her lips. "I thought you were older than that."

"Well, how old are you?"

Instantly her chest puffed out, perhaps subconsciously, but he found himself noticing again her attributes. "I'm nearly fifteen!"

Nearly fifteen. Almost old enough to marry. Not that he would consider marriage. To her. Or at all. Marriage was a topic to be thought about _in the future_. This wasn't the future, he was pretty sure. The future was somewhere else, something he had been, until recently, very sure of. Capture the Avatar, regain honor, restore birthright, become Firelord. Marriage surely had been in there somewhere, along with signing documents, attending ceremonies and fulfilling other official duties. It was like he was hovering in limbo and he was very, very frustrated, under several definitions of the word. He was trying very, very hard to remain in control of his body and its stubborn will of its own. But she was just so vexingly close to him, so available but not available, so often. He couldn't look at her without wanting to touch her, feel her, _be with her_. And he could hardly blame her, she was merely existing, going about her business with absolutely no awareness of her own body and it's sneaky pheromones.

He had been shocked, at the river, when she had not meet his voyeurism with anger or disgust. Shocked enough to attempt a secluded conversation. What was he doing? He had no idea what he was doing. _Girls_ _were crazy_, after all. A mystery he had been more than happy to put off exploring. Until she had sauntered into his proximity and set off some kind of hormonal time bomb.

Meanwhile, she was looking at him, hugging her elbows, and frowning. Damn. He had forgotten to say something.

"Fourteen --"

"Nearly fifteen!" She interjected, and he had absolutely no defense against the stubborn bundle of flashing blue eyed wonder that was Katara aged nearly fifteen.

"-- is a very nice age?" He stammered.

She stared at him for a second, then burst out laughing.

"Sorry." She said, shy cheerfulness seeping back into her face. He sighed, relieved. He never wanted to kiss her more than after she laughed. And he didn't even know why. He was not usually one to be attracted to "happy". Even though his only previous romantic experience had been limited to Jin, who was relentlessly chirpy (as well as frighteningly disarming) and Mai. If he counted Mai. If he was even remotely aware that what they had could have maybe been considered possibly potentially romantic.

He fought a weakness in his knees (damned mutinous body) as she smoothed her hair and rocked back on her heels, her light shift tugging up ever so slightly with the raising of her arms. It was long, but the side slits revealed slices of long brown leg. The bindings of her underclothes beginning at the middle of her thigh were exposed, somehow much more alluring than when they had been in plain sight. She was of course, completely oblivious to what she was doing to him.

He couldn't take much more.

Words. He needed words.

"So, uh... how do you like being almost fifteen?" He managed, kicking himself mentally (hard) as the words exited his mouth and he was helpless to do anything about them (damned mutinous words).

"It's very, very exciting, Zuko." She looked at him in the way he would expect anyone to look at him if he'd just said those words to them. A mixture of puzzlement and amusement. And was that sarcasm? He'd never been that good at detecting or appreciating sarcasm. One reason (of many) that Sokka made his head feel like it was going to pop. "How do you like being seventeen?"

Agni, she was cruel.

"It's... great?" Great, he echoed himself. Now he was ending all his sentences with question marks.

This. Could not. Be good.

IlIlIlIlI

A/N and UPDATE 1/28:

(This may or may not be a passive-aggresive cry for a beta.)

Next chapter is making me crazy logistically (logisti-what?), so it might be a few days. Sorreeeee! (wishes there was an emoticon for sheepish)

AND THANKS FOR THE COMMENTS, EVERYONE! SKWISHES!!


	5. Of Pants and Men

Standard disclaimers apply. I bet Brian and Mike get lots of chicks.

IlIlIlIlIlIlI

What the hell was wrong with Zuko? He was stuttering, staring off into space, and once (surely it had been her imagination, she insisted) she thought she had seen the tiniest hint of redness on his cheek. He was clearly uncomfortable. And he seemed to have lost his ability to speak in complete sentences. Maybe he was just tired. She knew she was. She shrugged and patted her thighs decisively.

"Well, we should head back to camp. It's getting late, and you've got to get up early, I'm sure. To catch the sunrise." She smiled at him as generously as she could, hoping that she'd read him correctly.

"Oh." His face was a complete blank. No expression whatsoever, save a slightly wider eye. "Right. The sunrise. Of course." He nodded.

She started to turn to leave, when he said, "Do you think we should go back together? I mean, how would that look..."

"What do you mean?" She laughed. "Of course. It's fine. And you can save me from any platypus bears we run into."

"Okay. But shouldn't you, you know, put your pants back on before we go back?"

Ooooooooh. Yes. She saw his point.

"Wouldn't that be funny, Zuko? If everyone thought we were out here _making out_, or something?" she chuckled lightly. "Sokka would kill you."

"Ha ha." He managed weakly, nodding his head slightly, the squirrelmonkey look in his eyes back with a vengeance. "Yes. Funny." He grumbled something under his breath about Sokka and bending and not a chance.

IlIlIlIlIlIlI

Dear, sweet, flaming, tapdancing Agni, he cursed for the umpteenth time that night; as he lay in his sleeping bag staring at the fire.

She had no idea. And he had thought she was relatively bright. He was at once relieved and disappointed that his secret was still safe. But something swelled to bursting inside him to _just get it out_. Be done with it. No more distraction. No more botched attempts to use language to communicate ideas and feelings in meaningful ways. No more picturing her naked in the river. Stop! He scolded himself, as he tread onto dangerous ground. But it was too late. His head was already full of the usual lasciviousness, plus a heavy helping of _tonight,_ as he replayed the whole pitiful, beautiful scene in his head over again. He cringed when he got to the parts with himself and the words.

What was it that he really wanted? He had nothing else to think about really. His uncle was far too busy training Aang and having tea parties with Toph to be of any help. And the times he did get Iroh alone to talk to him he struggled to keep from being furious with him, and his plan to help The Avatar overthrow his sister and father. It was treasonous. And now he was a traitor as well, swayed by his own feelings.

He hated feelings. He hated the way they made him feel, especially. If he could, he would burn them all out of his body. He had gone along with Iroh out of the last shreds of loyalty he had left in him, for the man who had loved him even in betrayal, through his darkest times. The sight of him in that prison cell, injured and broken and near death at Azula's hands, or at the very least, her orders, had broken through to him. He should have left him in that cell. _ You have brought this on yourself_, were the words he should have said to him, and left him there. But no. He had had to save him. It was an act beyond himself, beyond thrones and wars and plots. It hadn't occurred to him that in that act, he would be cutting himself off from his throne (Iroh was right about that. He rarely thought things through to the end) until the Dai Lee guards spying on them alerted Azula to what he was doing (he had originally intended to just get him out, and away). But they had forced the confrontation. It was still possible, Iroh had assured him, to regain his throne. Overthrowing Ozai was the only way to truly restore his birthright. It was a family tradition, after all. Ozai himself had done it. Zuko had refused to believe it at first, the details were still sketchy and unknown, as Iroh hadn't been there himself to witness it. But in the weeks after their escape from Ba Sing Se, his uncle had convinced him that the only truly patriotic thing, the only right thing to do, was to help to restore his country to the balance of nature. And that meant stopping the war, and a coup.

It was painful for him to think about. Only slightly more than the demands of his traitorous body. How a waterbender had managed to light a flame so insistent in him, he would never understand. It defied the laws of nature. But, the sullen prince reasoned, he had witnessed her fury, and it was at least as temper-mental and indiscriminate as any flame.

He sighed, and tried to remove the image of Katara and her waterlogged underclothes from his head, to no avail. He drifted into fitful slumber praying that tonight wouldn't be the night he started talking in his sleep.

IlIlIlIlIlI

A/N: Eek! Serious!Zuko attacks!


	6. It's a dirty job

discaimy bobaimy. I see not a penny from the amusing of myself.

IlIlIlIlIlI

Boys! Katara fumed. You would think that she had nothing better to do than find things for them to do and make sure they didn't kill each other. Which they had been mostly trying to do all morning. And Toph was not any better. In fact, it seemed the diminutive earthbender had actually been egging them on.

They had just stopped yelling, and were dangerously close to a physical confrontation, both boys standing tense and ready. Sokka was fingering his club and Zuko was staring at his fist, as if to remind the younger boy exactly what he could do with it.

"Sokka! Zuko! That's enough!" She pulled the stopper from her water skin and dropped threateningly into fighting stance.

"Don't test me, Katara." Growled Zuko, a flame sparking to life at the bottom of his fist. "Sokka and I are just having a... gentleman's disagreement."

"Is _that_ what you call it?" Sokka huffed. "_His highness_ here seems to think that he's too good to do _menial labor_ when there are _peasants_ around."

"What?" She instinctively formed a water whip. But, she took a deep breath and decided to let it go. She needed things done more than she needed to be dragged into their squabble. _As infuriating as Zuko's position might be..._ "Zuko, Appa needs a bath." She smirked to herself. Peasant indeed. "Sokka, we need water and food. Toph, you can..." she paused, trying to remember what Toph actually did.

"What? You think I can't do what they can do because I'm blind???"

"Fine. Toph, _you _can get the water, Zuko can bathe Appa, and Sokka can gather food. Better?"

They all started their protests (loudly) at once. Zuko began sulking hotly as soon as he realized that he wasn't going to get anywhere with words. Toph and Sokka didn't find any reason not to fill the void of Zuko's voice with their own, quickly adjusting their volume.

"_Enough!" _Katara yelled. "Get started, all three of you, or you're all washing Appa, and I'll be there to watch you like little babies!"

Zuko fumed. Literally; she thought she could see a little steam coming out of his nose.

"What are you going to do?" Sokka protested.

"What I always do, Sokka. I'm watching Aang train."

"Oh, so you get to-" She shut him up with a look and he joined Zuko in sulking. But Toph was more than willing to jump in.

"Katara, tell Sokka he needs to wash his sleeping bag." she piped up. "It smells like a dead hogmonkey."

"It does not!" Sokka shot back.

"Yes, it does!"

"Well, you should wash your... clothes! And your... hair!" Clearly Sokka was running out of steam.

Katara broke in. "Toph, we can do laundry tomorrow. You'll both survive one more night. Zuko? Do you need anything washed?"

"No. I can take care of my own personal hygiene, thank you."

It was true, she noted. Zuko had never smelled like Sokka. He always smelled sort of sharp and smoky, but clean; and had never even begun to reach the level of funk that Sokka and Toph both obviously aspired to. Although the thought of him smelling like wet fur and mud amused her a great deal.

"Well? Get going!" She slapped a branch into Zuko's hands, a bucket into Toph's and a spear and basket into Sokka's. Then she shooed them from camp like the children they were.

IlIlIlIlIlIlI


	7. This is the one to skip to for kissing

I have no rights to these characters. (That's probably for the best. I'm as fluffy as a newborn kitten. Once it's dried.)

IlIlIlIlIlIlI

Who did she think she was? Zuko stomped through the camp in a very un-stealthlike manner. The Blue Spirit would have been appalled at his lack of attention to his surroundings, if he still existed. He was older than her! He was a prince! How dare she! And he had no intention whatsoever of washing the Avatar's bison, he fumed as he tossed the bristled branch off into the bushes.

He needed to blow off some steam.

He growled through his teeth as he climbed the rocks to his meditation spot. Stupid girl. Stupid sexy girl. He shouldn't have let her tell him what to do like he was... like he was one of them. Which was why, as he dropped into a basic form above the river, he felt a familiar bitter comfort in the fire and smoke that emanated from his body. His future had slipped away like a fish in his hand every time he tried to hold onto it.

The only solid thing (he grimaced as he exhaled flame through his fists in short, controlled bursts), the only thing he was holding onto was the wish to hold onto her. He didn't even know if he wanted it to really happen. But the way his breath hitched in his chest when he even thought about it, breaking his flow made up his mind for him.

"I'm acting like a stupid girl." He growled to himself. He was ready for a fight. He was ready for her rejection. He just wanted _something_ to happen.

He found her on the outskirts of the training field.

"Finished with Appa already? You couldn't have. What have you been doing?" She was shifting into scolding mode. Ugh. He hated it when she got this way. He cut her off at the pass.

"Can I talk to you, Katara?"

"Sure." She looked at him expectantly. She was not making this easy.

"Alone?" He glanced over at his uncle and Aang, who were still working on basic sets. Aang was almost ready to spar, Iroh had told him earlier that day. That was a task Zuko would actually enjoy.

"Is it important?"

"Yes."

She sighed. "Okay. Lets take a walk then. Aang seems to be holding up okay, he'll be alright for awhile."

Zuko noticed Aang glowering at them as they left. He did not hold back his smirk.

After they had walked for a bit in loaded silence, she said, "So. What did you want to talk to me about?"

"I..." He took a deep breath, steeling himself for her reaction. He had a sudden change of whatever you call it. Plan.

He grabbed her arm and swung her around to him, took one last look at her face before he found his courage (somewhere near his spleen, he thought), closed his eyes and dove in head first.

His lips hit hers at a slightly odd angle, which he quickly overcorrected, succeeding only in bumping their noses together. He slipped one hand through her hair (so soft...) to the nape of her neck to anchor himself, and concentrated on the texture of her mouth. It was different than in his dreams and his... waking dreams (he preferred to deny that he had any control over them). Wetter. More solid. Not moving.

He backed off, cheeks blazing. Heart racing. Ready to bolt, if necessary. He felt strangely elated in the release of his... whatever it was.

"Oh..." it was her turn to be speechless. There was a strange look in her eyes that he was not having any luck pinning down.

IlIlIlIlIlIlI

What was he doing? _What was he doing? _Suddenly it all made sense. She kicked herself mentally for not getting it. Of course. Why she hadn't seen it before, she hadn't a clue. She replayed the last ten seconds quickly in her head. Yes. He had in fact kissed her. _Kissed her._ And she had... liked it. She started to speak again, she started to demand answers and explainations. But she decided against it as she remembered the feeling in the pit of her belly a moment ago and decided to leave the thinking to later. She flung herself at him, arms locking around his neck (a little tight, he squirmed) lips finding his willing and pliant. His arms wrapped around her waist, lifting her slightly up on her feet. (So nice, she thought.) His tongue found her lips and parted them, feeling for teeth and smooth and wet and each other. They were both painfully new to to this, and they struggled to find a rhythm that wasn't just desperate thrusting and want. He bit her lip a little too hard and she whimpered, pressing her chest into him and flattening her hands in his hair. He groaned and his knees seemed to buckle a bit in response. Eventually they found a steady back and forth, a gentler exploration.

When at last they were ready to break apart, lips swollen and eyelids heavy, they stood quietly and held on for what felt like dear life. Her forehead fell lightly on his shoulder, his chin rested in her hair. She was overcome by a sudden shyness and felt a hot blush creeping into her cheeks. What were they doing? And why did this feel _so good_?

IlIlIlIlIlIlI

"You don't like to talk, do you?" She finally said quietly, looking up into his face, the ghost of a smile crossing her features.

How did she do that, he wondered, smile with her whole face without moving a muscle?

"No." He replied. And for once, he was completely sure of himself.

IlIlIlIlIlIlI

The End? Maybe not... stay tuned.


End file.
